Page 82 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

I swing by the house when Ellie is home from school and she runs up to me, her tiny arms wrapping around my waist like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go. "I made something for you," she whispers, pressing a piece of paper into my hand.

I unfold it carefully, my breath catching in my throat. A crayon drawing—me, Sam, and Ellie, all holding hands, with the wordsOur Familyscribbled above us. My chest aches.

“Ellie...” My voice cracks. I kneel to her level, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “This is perfect. I’ll keep it with me always.”

I pull two jerseys from my bag and hand them to Ellie and Sam. “So you can wear them when you watch my games. That way, I’ll always have you with me.”

Sam holds the jersey in her hands, running her fingers overmy number. I see the conflict in her eyes, the war between her heart and her fear. I wish I could promise her it would be easy, but I know better.

When it’s time to go, I hug Ellie tight. “I promise we’ll Facetime all the time, okay? And I’ll visit whenever I can.”

She sniffles, nodding against my shoulder. “Okay,” she croaks.

I turn to Sam, hoping—praying—she’ll tell me she’s coming with me. But the words never come.

With one last look, I walk out the door, feeling like I’m leaving my heart behind.

I walk to my truck, and I’m sure part of it will be with them forever.

Sam and Ellie managed to rehab my heart and they gave me a glimpse of what my future can be with them.

And that makes leaving them next to impossible. But I’ve been gone for weeks and it’s time for me to get back to training. Besides, the longer I stay the more it will hurt.

Today, I ripped the Band-Aid off and as I drove down the highway, my eyes began to mist.

I created so many memories with them. Ellie’s camp and the kids were fun. It kept my mind and body busy. It gave me a schedule when I had none and I felt—needed. Even though I couldn’t play ball with my team, I was important to the counselor and the kids even if I didn’t carry a football in my hand.

I will miss Ellie’s giggles when I flip pancakes. And I’ll miss making coffee for Sam every morning. I’ll miss the creak on the third step up the stairs and I’ll miss the lazy Sundays and cooking on her rusty old grill.

26

SAMANTHA

Jake is leaving today.

I’m afraid to face him and I’m afraid not to.

I slam my office door behind me and listen as the sound echoes through the quiet restaurant. My heart pounds in my chest, but it isn’t from exhaustion—it’s frustration. I’m frustrated with myself, with Jake, and frankly—the entire situation. I’ve created this mess because I’m too scared to venture into the unknown. The possibility that perhaps he’s my destiny isn’t lost on me.

He is leaving. And I let him go. What the hell is wrong with me? He’s an incredible man. He’s got a heart of gold, he’s affectionate and he makes me a better person. We’re opposites. I’m too uptight and he’s well, he can be downright funny. And I love that about him. He softens the sharp edges of my personality.

And instead of fighting for him and what we have, my fears make me retreat. I convinced myself I wouldn’t fit into his world, and that he’ll wake up one day and realize I’m not perfect. Or maybe, he’ll decide we don’t have what it takes to make us work in the long run.

And the truth hit me hard. I’m pretending I’m fine when every part of me screams that I’m not. I’m broken—again.

“Ryan!” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended. The young server flinches, eyes wide as he turns toward me. “These tables aren’t clean enough. Customers notice these things. If you want to work here, you have to care about the details.”

Ryan swallows hard and nods, immediately reaching for the cloth to redo his work. Guilt claws at my chest, but I shove it down, focusing instead on something—anything—that I can control.

Maggie, my chef, and closest friend, appears beside me, arms crossed over her chest. “All right, what’s going on with you?” she quips.

I scowl, refusing to meet her gaze. “Nothing. Just trying to keep things running smoothly. Is that a crime now?”

She snorts. “Please. I’ve known you for years, Sam. You only go into perfectionist overdrive when you’re trying to ignore something. Or someone.”

I turn away, but Maggie isn’t letting me off the hook. She leans against the counter, her voice gentler now. "Look, I get it. You’re scared. But Jake didn’t invite you just to uproot your life for no reason. He invited you because he wants you with him. Because he sees a future with you."

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat growing. “Maggie, I can’t just drop everything. My career, the restaurant, everything I have is here—it’s my life.”

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